


Happy Holidays

by centreoftheselights



Series: Rockpool 'Verse [4]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Life Is Strange, Steven Universe - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Cold Weather, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drabble, F/F, First Date, Flirting, Future Fic, Handmade Presents, Holidays and Happy Endings Fest, Hot Chocolate, Nightmare Customer, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Pre-Femslash, Save Chloe Ending, School Play, Steven's Childhood, Support, Toddlers, University Applications, Winter, femslashrevolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5409956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centreoftheselights/pseuds/centreoftheselights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of femslash drabbles for the femslashrevolution Holidays and Happy Endings fest.</p><p>1. Ginny/Luna, hot cocoa (Rockpool 'Verse/future domestic AU)<br/>2. Carmilla/Laura, hot cocoa (Coffeeshop AU)<br/>3. Carmilla/Laura, school play (Teachers AU)<br/>4. Amethyst/Pearl, baby's first holiday (Pre-Canon)<br/>5. Chloe/Max, handmade gifts (Post-Canon, Save Chloe ending)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ginny/Luna, hot cocoa

It’s a ritual as complex as any potion recipe. Luna lights the stove, pours out a panful of milk by eye, and then stands over it, gently stirring.

She hears the door open behind her less than a minute later. With a blast of cold air and much huffing and stamping of feet, Ginny comes in and takes off her cloak and heavy boots, then walks over to join Luna.

“Hot chocolate?” she asks, wrapping her arms around Luna from behind. “You’re the best.”

“Oh!” Luna gasps at the cold press of Ginny’s nose against her warm neck. For a moment she thinks it was an accident, but then icy cold fingers sneak under the hem of her jumper, trailing frozen lines along the curve of her stomach.

“Stop that!” Luna scolds. “Or you’re not getting any.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ginny replies, but she withdraws her hands, stepping forwards next to Luna. “It’s freezing out, my gloves were useless. I need to get warm.”

“That’s what the hot chocolate is for,” Luna says with a smile, but she tips her head up and presses a kiss to Ginny’s cheek, still flushed red from the exertion of flying and the harsh wind which howls outside. “It’s nearly ready. Go get the blanket out.”

Ginny mock-pouts and kisses her back, a rough press against the corner of Luna’s mouth.

“Fine,” she says, leaving the room as Luna flicks her wand at the stove, cooling the fire before the milk can boil.

The chocolate mixture from Honeydukes is ready on the counter, and Luna snaps two squares off of the chocolate bar and drops them into the pan. Quickly, the kitchen fills with the scent of chocolate, hazelnuts and cinnamon as the squares melt into the milk. Luna gives it a quick stir, checking that all the lumps have smoothed away, then pours it out into the waiting mugs, smiling as the smattering of icing sugar and cinnamon dust sprinkles itself on top.

She picks up the hot mugs carefully and walks through to the lounge. The living room is messy as always, strewn with scraps of parchment bearing scribbled notes in Ginny’s slanting writing and Luna’s alchemical shorthand. The radio on the side is playing softly, something crooning and full of jingle-bells, and on the sofa is Ginny, curled up in a grumpy ball with the thick woolen blanket drawn up to her armpits, huffing on her hands to try and work the warmth back into them.

When she sees Luna arrive, Ginny’s face lights up in a smile. She eagerly wraps her hands around the offered mug, drawing it close to breathe in the warm, aromatic steam.

Luna sits, and Ginny scooches closer to her, tucking her legs over Luna’s lap and throwing the blanket over them both. She’s still shivering slightly, but the tension drains out of her as she curls into Luna’s side, resting her head against her partner’s shoulder.

“Cheers,” Ginny says quietly, clunking the two mugs together, and Luna chuckles.

“Warm enough?” Luna asks.

“Mm-hmm.” Ginny smiles. “Just don’t move.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

Ginny laughs, shaking against Luna’s arm, but she doesn’t say anything more. The radio plays on, a song Luna half-remembers from childhood, and the wild weather continues to roar distantly at the windowframe, and Ginny curls close against Luna, takes a sip of her hot chocolate, and smiles.


	2. Laura/Carmilla, hot cocoa

“I love Christmas. The decorations, the gingerbread cookies, the white peppermint hot chocolate…” Laura grinned as she looked around at the tinsel-covered cafe.

“Stressed out, over-caffeinated Christmas shoppers hopped up on eggnog so they can stand to drag their brats to Santa’s grotto,” Carmilla shot back. “Christmas is retail hell, cupcake. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

Laura had no idea how she’d wound up with such a sourpuss for a shift partner. She’d considered complaining to the store manager, but LaFontaine and Perry, who worked out back in the bakery, had advised against it. Apparently the store manager didn’t like problems.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Laura asked Carmilla with a smug smile.

Carmilla groaned loudly as she pulled the store-regulation Santa hat out of her pocket and put it on.

“Better?” she spat.

Laura beamed. “Perfect!”

 

Three hours later, Laura was starting to wonder if Carmilla was right after all. The cafe was busier than she’d ever seen it, and all of the customers were rushed and grumpy.

“Excuse me,” said the cold-eyed woman in front of the counter for the third time. “I asked for a gluten-free half-fat eggnog latte with steamed milk and a shot of hazelnut syrup.”

“Yes! That’s what this is,” Laura said, trying to keep the smile on her face.

The woman raised her eyebrows. “I saw you pick up the hazelnut syrup from the shelf. Shouldn’t you have fetched the gluten-free hazelnut syrup?”

“All of our flavour syrups are gluten free,” Laura told her. “Enjoy your drink!”

“Excuse me, but I’m not sure I believe you. Fetch me a copy of the dietary information for the syrup.”

Laura looked at the growing queue of waiting customers. The man who was next in line had folded his arms, and was glaring at her.

“I’m absolutely sure,” Laura repeated. “Please, just take your drink and sit down.”

“Excuse me!” The woman said loudly. “I don’t expect this sort of backchat from my barista. I want to talk to your manager.”

“What seems to be the problem?” Carmilla appeared at Laura’s elbow, seemingly out of thin air.

“This customer -” Laura began.

“ _Excuse me_ ,” the woman said loudly, and Laura winced. “This waitress is being insolent and unhelpful. I asked for a copy of the dietary information for your hazelnut syrup, and she’s refusing to fetch it for me.”

Carmilla looked disgusted. “If you want that information, it’s available on our store website. We don’t keep a copy in-store.”

The woman’s smile vanished. “I want to speak to the manager.”

A slow smile crept across Carmilla’s face.

“Well, good for you!” she said brightly. “Because I _am_ the manager. Now, take your drink and stop harassing my staff, or I’m afraid store policy states that I will have to press charges.”

Defeated, the woman snatched the drink off the counter and stalked away.

“Hey.” Carmilla stepped forward to shield Laura from the rest of the customers. “You okay?”

Laura realised she was shaking. “Y- yeah, I’m -”

“Go take a break,” Carmilla told her. “I can handle things out here for ten minutes.”

Laura was taken aback. Carmilla was a lot of things, but she had never been _nice_ before. “Uh, thanks.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Don’t get soppy on me. If you’re going to have a breakdown, I want to make sure you don’t do it in front of the customers.”

That made more sense. Laura retreated into the tiny employee bathroom to wash her face and calm down.

But two minutes later, when she returned to the break room, there was a cup waiting on the table, with the word ‘Cupcake’ scrawled on the side. Laura smiled to herself and took a sip.

White peppermint hot chocolate.

Maybe Carmilla wasn’t such a sourpuss after all.


	3. Laura/Carmilla, school play

“It’s okay, your costume looks great,” Laura told a fidgeting Eliza for the third time. “The wings are really pretty, and you remember your lines, don’t you?”

“Lo I am the angel Gabriel and I bring you good news -” Elizabeth began in a monotone drone.

“Yes, yes, perfect!” Laura said, turning away before she could repeat the entire speech. Again.

The classroom was a mess of cardboard halos, reindeer antler headbands, and raw nerves. With only minutes left until the big performance, Ms Hollis’s Grade 1 students were in crisis, with bruised knees and broken props everywhere Laura turned. _Stress central._

And the only thing causing Laura more stress than a classroom full of six-year-olds with stage fright? Ms Karnstein, the teacher from the classroom across the hall, who was stalking through the class-slash-dressing room like a dark shadow, sending Laura’s students scurrying in her wake.

“You ready to go, teach?” Carmilla asked with a grin. “My little angels are all lined up.”

“Nearly,” Laura said. “I just have to deal with -”

“Miss, miss!” Another problem was tugging at her sleeve. Laura turned away to deal with Robbie and his lost dressing gown tie, and when she turned back, Carmilla was rounding up her students.

“Listen up, kiddywinks! You should know your order by now. Everyone start lining up, and if there are any more problems, come to me!”

The classroom was suddenly a lot quieter.

Laura didn’t know whether to glare at Carmilla or smile in thanks. The two of them had very different teaching styles to say the least - at first, Laura had been completely horrified by her scowl, her leather jacket, and her habit of scaring her class into submission. But in the last month of working together on this school play, they’d started to grow closer, and Laura had realised Carmilla wasn’t as tough as she looked.

Like, for instance, the way Carmilla stooped to murmur in Daniel’s ear. Daniel was taking the star role this evening - narrator, a role he’d won by being the student with the best enunciation and the warmest smile. There was just one problem - at the dress rehearsal, he’d forgotten one of his lines, panicked, and run off-stage, refusing to return until Carmilla had coaxed him back. Laura hoped more than anything that tonight wouldn’t be a repeat performance.

Laura walked over to them.

“You’ve got this, champ,” Carmilla was saying. Daniel nodded very seriously, and went to take his place at the head of the line.

Carmilla caught Laura’s eye and grinned. “Break a leg, Hollis.”

Laura pulled a face as she slipped out the door and back to her own classroom.

“Is everyone ready?” Laura asked brightly. A chorus of ‘yes’s followed. “Okay everyone, let’s go!”

 

Only a few short, stomach-knottingly tense minutes, it was over. Their scene in the nativity was all done, and the students were traipsing off-stage and back up the corridor to the classroom.

“Well done, everybody!” Laura whispered. “Well done!”

Most of the students were beaming, although Eliza frowned and said: “I forgot to say ‘Lo’.”

“Don’t worry,” Laura told her. “No-one will know. You said the rest of it beautifully.”

Eliza’s face lit up, and she rushed past the waiting line of Grade 2 students and back towards the classroom.

Daniel, who had the closing narration, was the last to leave the hall. As soon as he was through the hall doors, he ran over to Carmilla.

“I did it!” he told her in an excited whisper. “I remembered it all.”

“Just like I told you you would,” Carmilla agreed, with one of her rare smiles. “Well done, champ.”

Daniel’s face shone with delight, and he hurried to share his delight with Laura as she walked back to the classroom.

“Ms Hollis, Ms Hollis!” he said. “I did it! I did it and Ms Karnstein said well done!” He dropped his voice to a whisper, although it was still loud enough to be heard clearly in the empty corridor. “She smiled at me just like she smiled at you!”

“Did she?” Laura asked, unable to keep the smirk off her face at his choice of words. “You must have done very well then. Why don’t you go tell the rest of the class all about it?”

Daniel raced up the corridor and into the classroom, as Carmilla walked to Laura’s side.

“So,” Laura asked with a teasing smile. “Are you going to ruffle my hair and tell me I did a good job too?”

A smirk curled its way across Carmilla’s face. “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Laura suddenly felt short of breath. “What were you thinking of, then?”

Carmilla leant forward, her lips brushing against Laura’s hair, and Laura could feel her heart pounding.

“I’ll tell you later,” Carmilla breathed.

“What do you mean?” Laura murmured back.

“Well,” Carmilla said. “We’ve been working hard. I figure we both deserve a drink to celebrate.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Is that a yes?”

Laura could feel her cheeks glowing red - they really shouldn’t be talking this way in school - but Carmilla kept staring at her, making her head spin and all common sense leave her head.

“Yes,” she breathed back.

Carmilla smiled. “Then I’ll see you later.”

She turned and walked back into her classroom, while Laura wondered back to her own in a daze -

To find Eliza had been peeping round the doorframe.

“Miss,” she asked. “Do you _like_ Ms Karnstein?”

Laura was lucky she was already red, or her blush would have given her away in a moment.

"I like everyone I work with,” she said breezily. “Now, who wants to make Christmas cards?”


	4. Amethyst/Pearl, baby's first holiday

It was Steven’s idea.

For someone who was only three years old and barely came up to Pearl’s knees, he could be surprisingly persuasive. After Steven had asked, wide-eyed, why his auntie gems weren’t getting Christmas presents, Greg had come to the temple to invite them over for the holiday.

Of course, they didn’t have to accept... but a small, round, eager face explaining that Christmas was a time for family was, well. Persuasive.

Which meant buying gifts.

After consulting at length with Greg on the relevant traditions, the gems had gone on an outing to the toy shop in town, bickered at length for the most appropriate gift, eventually agreed to buy separately - then returned to the temple to wrap their carefully-selected goodies in brightly coloured paper, ready for the big day.

 

The traditions of Christmas were strange, but enjoyable - not least because Steven was evidently loving every minute. He had beamed at the three gems when they first arrived and put their presents under the tree, and squealed with laughter at the sight of them pulling crackers and putting on the flimsy paper crowns inside.

“How do snowmen get around?” Garnet read from the slip of paper. “They ride an icicle.”

Greg joined in the laughter at that point.

After lunch, they opened presents around the tree, then Greg put Steven to bed for his nap. Garnet volunteered to help with the dishes, while Pearl and Amethyst took a walk outside. The weather was cold, but clear, without a sign of the snow Steven had hoped for - not that this had put a damper on his mood. The streets of Beach City were eerily empty, allowing the two aliens to walk around without encountering any humans to stare at them or complain about past property damage.

“So...” Pearl said. “This is... fun.”

Amethyst snorted. “What do you know about fun?”

Pearl frowned. “Is this about the blocks? They were an excellent idea! They help to build creativity, develop motor skills, they’re age-appropriate -”

“Yawn!” Amethyst declared.

“And I suppose your ‘Monster Truck’ was more suitable?”

“Uh, yeah!” Amethyst grinned. “Man, that toy was so cool. I wish it was my Christmas present.”

“That doesn’t mean you should give it to Steven!” Pearl complained. “The box said ages six and up.”

“So?” Amethyst shrugged. “He’s going to be older soon, right?”

“Steven is still developing, we have to nurture his future skills -”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t have _fun_ every once in a while -”

“Uh, guys?”

Greg had come outside to find them.

“The little guy’s up. He’s asking about you.”

 

They made their way back up the stairs to Greg’s flat. In the front room, Steven was sat on the floor, putting the finishing touches to a tower made out of the blocks Pearl had given him. She was about to make a smug comment on this obvious preference when Steven stepped back, picked up the monster truck, and crashed it into the tower while making some suitably explosive sound effects.

“Oh no!” Steven cried dramatically. “Cryst-ah Gems gotta save the day!”

Garnet, sat across from him, scooched forward.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll handle this. Team?”

She looked pointedly at Amethyst and Pearl.

“Uh, yes!” Pearl said.

“Take that, Monster Truck!” Amethyst cried, leaping across to fake-wrestle the toy. Steven clapped his hands.

“Aargh, help me Pearl!”

Amethyst threw the toy to Pearl, who caught it, then belatedly began to wave her arms around. “Uh, yes. This truck is a dreadful foe. Most challenging.”

She tossed the toy back to Amethyst, who rolled around underneath the truck making groaning noises.

“We can’t do this alone. Steven, you’re going to have to help!”

Steven reached across and bashed the truck uncertainly with one clenched fist. Amethyst threw the toy in the air, letting it crash to the ground.

“Yay!” she said, and Steven joined in the cheering.

“Now build!” he cried.

“Yes,” Pearl said. “Let’s build another tower. Come on, Steven!”

Steven grabbed at Amethyst’s arm, looking at her seriously.

“Help,” he said.

“Uh, course I will,” Amethyst said, a little nervously. “We can all build it together. Right, Pearl?”

She shrugged, and Pearl understood it to mean as much of an apology as she was able to give. Pearl smiled, and hoped Amethyst knew she meant the same.

“Right,” she said. “Together.”

Garnet rubbed her hands together. “Okay, Steven, you’re the boss. What colour shall we make the base?”


	5. Max/Chloe, handmade gifts

There was a gentle dusting of frost over the park, and although the paths were scattered with salt to keep them from freezing over, the occasional line of footprints could be seen snaking their way across the grass. It was shaping up to be a typical Seattle winter, without a single unusual weather phenomenon in sight. They were even forecasting snow on Christmas Day.

Max and Chloe, their gloved hands clasped tight, pushed their way through the Christmas Eve crowds, searching for an empty bench.

“There!” Chloe pointed with a grin. “Told you we’d find one. Come on, before someone else takes it.”

She raced forward, dragging a laughing Max behind her. They reached the bench and curled up next to each other, hunched over in their thick winter coats.

“So,” Chloe asked. “What’s the good news?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you,” Max suggested with a teasing smile.

“Please.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “You know when my lunch break is, and you were a full ten minutes early. So, what’s the gossip?”

Max pulled a slightly-crumpled envelope out of her pocket. Chloe eagerly tore it out of her hands, pulling out the letter that Max had received that morning.

“Miss Caulfield, we are delighted to inform, accepted into our program…” Chloe’s face lit up. “You got into UCLA?”

“I got into UCLA!” Max confirmed, breaking into the smile which had been tugging at her mouth all morning.

Chloe shrieked and threw her arms around Max, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Amazing! I always knew you could do it.”

“We’re going to LA,” Max said, not quite believing.

“We’re going to LA,” Chloe repeated, and in her voice it finally sounded true. “I don’t care what it takes Max, you’re not going without me.”

Max laughed and kissed her, not caring about chapped lips or thick coats or the crowd. She and Chloe were finally going to make it to LA together, and nothing else in the world mattered.

“Did your mom freak?” Chloe asked.

“I didn’t tell her yet,” Max admitted. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Max, I - I don’t know what to say.” Chloe blushed. “I, uh - I want to give you something. Your present. I understand if you want to wait for tomorrow with your folks and all, but -”

“No, actually, I had the same idea.” Max pulled a wrapped present out of her shoulder bag. “I was going to give this to you anyway, so you could open it in private.”

Chloe grinned. “Great minds think alike, I guess. But do mine first, okay?”

She handed Max a small, rectangular parcel. Since they were both saving up money for their LA plan, they’d agreed to make each other gifts this year. Given the size and shape, Max had an inkling of what hers might be.

She unwrapped it slowly, watching Chloe fidget as she took her time. Inside was a cassette tape box. Chloe had hand-drawn the cover, a beautiful miniature picture of a doe and a butterfly. When Max opened it up, a track list was written on the inside cover in Chloe’s familiar scrawl.

“You made me a mix tape?” Max asked.

“I know it’s cheesy...”

“I love it!” Max hugged her. “Although I might have to borrow a cassette player...”

Chloe tapped the bottom of the track list with a smile. Max looked closer, and saw that the last line was a URL.

“I may be old school, but I do appreciate modern technology,” Chloe told her. “Listen online, any time. But I thought your inner hipster would appreciate the hard copy.”

“You know me so well.” Max smiled at her. “Thank you.”

Chloe met her gaze her a moments before looking away.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough soppy staring. I want to see my present!”

She tore through the wrapping paper in a broad strip, revealing the project Max had spent the last month hiding from her.

“It’s a scrapbook,” she explained. “Pictures, memories. Mostly from the last few month, although there’s a few from... before...”

Chloe flicked through the pages, pausing on pictures of her first day at Starbucks, her silhouette asleep in the back seat of Max’s dad’s car, the selfie they had taken together in Chloe’s bed in Arcadia Bay.

“Max...” For once, Chloe seemed speechless. “Thank you.”

Max hesitated, waiting for her to stop turning the pages.

“There’s so many...” Chloe finally looked up. “Do you have any pictures of me left?”

“I kept a couple,” Max said. “But I figured it didn’t really matter. I can take more.”

“I love it,” Chloe said. “Max, I... This is amazing.”

She wrapped one arm tight around Max’s shoulders, hugging her close.

“Merry Christmas, Chloe.”

“Merry Christmas, Max.”


End file.
